


Dragon Fire Never Stops Burning

by PunsBulletsAndPointyThings



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Drabble, Elrond and Thranduil are friends maybe more I dunno, Gen, Healing, I just needed to write, I love Thranduil so much asdjflaksdj, Ring of Power, Thranduil has scars, Warning slight spoilers for DOS, dragon fire, elves!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-01-06 20:49:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1111364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings/pseuds/PunsBulletsAndPointyThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Warning this fic contains slight spoilers for DoS.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Dragon Fire Never Stops Burning

**Author's Note:**

> Warning this fic contains slight spoilers for DoS.

It was the sound of raised voices that caught Elrond’s attention. Wondering who would be foolish enough to anger the King of Mirkwood, the Peredhil rose from his chair, placing his book down on the cushioned seat and left the grand library, silent if not for the soft swishes of his robes against the floors. As he made his way to Thranduil’s throne room, he heard the bellow of Khuzdul. A dwarf, in Mirkwood? Well, that would explain the shouting. 

Elrond reached the large, carved, white wooden doors of the throne room just in time to see Thorin Oakenshield be dragged away by two guards, Thranduil’s voice ringing after them.

“One hundred years is a mere blink in the life of an elf! I’m patient! I can wait!” The last would was practically spat, venom audible in the elf king’s tone. 

As he was dragged past, Thorin’s eyes met Elrond’s. The would-be dwarf king’s eyes were burning with fury that grew as he recognized the Lord of Rivendell. Elrond ignored the dwarf’s glares and hissed cures, brushing past the guard and into the throne room. 

Thranduil was slumped in his throne, his hands clenched in shaking fists. “If Thorin Oakenshield is here, I assume the rest of his company must be in the dungeons.” Elrond say calmly, ascending the stairs to the throne. Thranduil did not look up, but flicked a hand at the guards, signaling the two elves to leave them. Bowing, the guards swiftly left the hall, pulling the doors closed as they went. 

Silence filled the throne room. Folding his hands in front of him, Elrond waited for the older elf to speak.

“You knew these, dwarves, were traveling this way?” Thranduil’s voice was dangerous. “I knew the company of Thorin Oakenshield was traveling to Erebor, to reclaim it from the dragon Smaug,” Elrond did not miss the way Thranduil flinched at word “dragon”, “But I did not know they would pass so deep in your realm. They came to Rivendell with Mithrandir, seeking aid, which I gave to them. I am assuming you do not have the wizard in your cells too?” 

“They will rot in the dungeons.” Thranduil growled, raising his head. Elrond met his glare steadily. 

Though the elf king would never admit to it, Thranduil’s emotions were always clear on his face, if one knew how to read them. Elrond prided himself on the fact that he was one of the people who were able to read Thranduil’s face, better even then the king’s own son. So when his dark eyes met Thranduil’s piercing blue, he could immediately see the pain and fury that lay, barely concealed, under the surface.

Without a word Elrond reached out and took Thranduil’s pale, still shaking hand. “Come, mellon-nin.” He guided the king through the side door that connected the throne room to a quiet hall, and then to Thranduil’s chambers. 

Elrond sat down on the huge four poster bed that lay in the center of the largest of the rooms, pulling Thranduil to do the same. “Drop the glamour.” He instructed quietly. A few heartbeats, and Thranduil simply sat there; breathing raggedly, but then he nodded slightly. Breath hitching, face twisting in pain, the silver haired elf allowed the magic employed constantly to cease, revealing his wounds.

As his eyes ran over the other’s face, the missing or scarred flesh, exposed muscles and unseeing eye; Elrond remembered when the Elvenking had first arrived in Rivendell, brought to the Peredhil still screaming in pain, his guards’ faces pale with fear at the sound of their King’s howls of agony. Elrond had done all he could, calling for his sons and daughter to assist him further, but to no avail. Dragon fire carries its own, dark magic that is not so easily reversed. All Elrond had been able to do was try to ease the pain. 

“Innas ci lav-enni na asië lín naeg?” he asked, reaching out to cup Thranduil’s but not actually touching the other elf until he receive permission. Thranduil would often lash out when touched unexpectedly, one of the reasons he had withdrawn so much from the world. The elder elf nodded. 

Cupping Thranduil’s face with his left hand, Elrond trace his fingers as gently as he could over the wound. Thranduil hissed in pain, recoiling in Elrond’s grasp, relaxing only when Vilya’s power began to flow, cooling the never ending burning like cold water over a burn. 

After a time, Elrond released Thranduil, folding his hands together in his lap. Thranduil sat, as if in a daze. Then, he let out a long, slow breath, like a man experiencing quiet for the first time. As the glamour returned, his blue eyes locked onto Elrond’s, and a small smile appeared on Thranduil’s lips. “Hannon-le mellon-nin.” 

Elrond nodded, and rose off the bed. “You should rest. I will inform Legolas.” As he reached the door, he turned back and smiled slightly. “I will be in the library if you should have need of me mellon-nin.” And with that he was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Sindarin
> 
> Mellon-nin - My friend  
> Innas ci lav-enni na asië lín naeg? - Will you allow me to ease thy pain?  
> Hannon-le mellon-nin - Thank you my friend.
> 
>  
> 
> Vilya:  
> One of the three rings of power given to the elves; the Ring of Air. Made of gold and set with a sapphire, it is the mightiest of the three rings of power. It was originally held by Gil-galad, along with Narya, the Ring of Fire, which later was given to Cirdan, who in turn gave it to Gandalf.


End file.
